


Falling

by SketchLockwood



Category: 15th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF, The Cousins' War Series - Philippa Gregory, The Hollow Crown (2012), The Sunne in Splendour - Sharon Kay Penman, The White Queen (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-08-14 05:30:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8000314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SketchLockwood/pseuds/SketchLockwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was something I came up with from having a bad night. So please forgive me. </p><p>Prince Edward has fallen from his horse, this is the aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Ludlow, Spring 1479  
  
John Argentine had never felt his heart pound as now it did. He could feel it thunder. Could feel his hands shake, tremble so much he could barely bring himself to knock upon the door, and when he did he was sure it was no more than an insignificant rattle. That perhaps was why it took many minutes, minutes which felt like hours before the door was opened by a man only half dressed. A man it took Argentine a moment to realise was William Lord Hastings. Half dressed at this time of day? At any other time he may have been disgusted, at this moment he did not care. "My lord." The physician bowed. "I require your surgeon."   
  
"Surgeon? Why man?" The shout came from  
inside the chamber. As John Argentine peered into the room, he saw the woman, naked and one he did not recognise clamber from the King's lap. Argentine did not have time to mutter the words before the King spoke again. "Hobbes! Get your arse here!" The king's tone was cheerful. Cheerful and to be short lived Argentine knew. "Is Anthony ill? My wife would have to know if he is-"  
  
"No your grace." Argentine spoke with a voice shaking.   
  
Though he may be when you hear...  
  
"May I enter your grace? I do not wish to disclose this in such public domain."   
  
Argentine felt panic as he saw the King's expression change. His skin suddenly paler, he nodded signalling for the doctor to enter. "Come in man. Jane, leave us and dress." Argentine hardly noticed as Hobbes arrived, rearranging his clothing, replacing his doublet with care to hide the reddened marks caused by a lovers lips. "What is it?" Again the King didn't give Argentine chance to respond as the man pursed his lips to speak. "Jesus you look like you've seen a ghost. Will get the man ale-"  
  
"No." Argentine almost shouted. "Your grace it is about Prince Edward."   
  
"What of him?"   
  
"He was about his classes. Thought he would try his hand at jousting to impress you this eve your grace and..." The physician broke off.   
  
"And what?" King Edward barked, suddenly on his feet, reaching for his shirt he threw it over his head, about to reach for his doublet when he stopped suddenly at the next words.   
  
"He fell from his horse."  
  
Hobbes was the first to move, heading for the door without hesitation. "Where John?" The older man shouted back.  
  
"The outer Bailey..." Argentine felt the world move around him, though he did not think he could so much as breathe if he tried. Not until William Hastings pulled him away to follow the King as he sprinted from the royal chambers.   
  
***  
  
"Papa." The boys voice was weak amid his shrieks. Anthony Woodville held him, covered by a woollen cloak on the grass.   
  
"I instructed they wrap him to keep him warm." Argentine spoke to Hobbes, who nodded, half skidding to his knees beside the boy before his father joined the gesture.   
  
"Edward, sweet lord what has happened?"  
  
"I. Papa. It hurts." The boy whined.   
  
"Hush your grace." Hobbes spoke gently, soothingly. As soothingly as he would speak to his own children. "You must save your strength and I must focus." King Edward stroked his sons hair, kissing his sweat drenched forehead as Hobbes placed two fingers at the child's throat, counting silently. "Was his heart so weak when you left him?" Argentine had frozen, did not speak until King Edward rose to his feet.   
  
"God damn it! If you do not answer I'll remove your head now!"  
  
"Father!" The prince screamed, hand grasping for his father.   
  
"I did not check." Argentine whispered.  
  
"You did not check?" The King raised an eyebrow in disbelief.   
  
"Please!" Hobbes shouted. "Lord Rivers, help me turn him."   
  
"No." The King said with authority, taking hold of his son with one hand as he pushed Woodville away with the other. "You will not touch him." The King Hobbes saw winced as his son screamed in his hands, a blood curdling scream as he was turned into his stomach. One which turned to muffled sobs as he cried against his fathers thigh as Hobbes fought to cut the velvet of his doublet and the silk shirt beneath with a knife. A scream which was revived as a gentle finger ran up the child's spine. "What is it Hobbes?"   
  
The physician had not realised for how long he had frozen. "Your grace, I... John, come here." Argentine knelt beside the child. They shared a knowing glance.   
  
"Both of you will tell me now. I command it. I am his father and-"  
  
"His bones are broken your grace." Hobbes spoke quickly.   
  
"That cannot be." Anthony muttered, repeating himself.   
  
"Did you not hear him?" King Edward spat . "Hush, Edward, hush."  
  
***  
  
Elizabeth looked to her brother. Anthony the ashen wreck he was. In the large bed, her son slept in the arms of her husband. Hobbes had stopped the boys pain after hours of screams. Now he slept soundly, too soundly for Elizabeth's comfort. "What happened Anthony?"   
  
"He wished  
to joust Lisbet. I shouldn't have let him, not like that. He learnt it in combat classes. He has ridden well for several years now and well, I did not see the harm in it. He wanted to impress Ned." Anthony fell silent as the King moved in the bed, eyes still closed. Elizabeth frowned, he too had taken one of Hobbes' remedies, if only to persuade their son to drink the putrid stuff. Now he too slept, more thankfully for her brother she thought. "I said he could not joust, so instead we played a game."  
  
"We? Anthony you did not-"  
  
"I did not mean him to get hurt!" He defended quickly.   
  
"No, right you didn't, except he did get hurt Anthony. He did. Now he cannot move. Ned is wrath, and you are lucky he does not know of this, but you cannot think I can deliberately hide it from my husband."  
  
"I do not expect you will." He muttered.  
  
"Many men fall from horses." The voice made both parties jump. William Hastings stepped forward. "Not many men break their backs-"  
  
"He is just a boy-" Anthony began, voice filled with bitterness.   
  
"No, he is not just a boy. He is prince of Wales. That means I have a right to know, he fell from the horse how? If it was just a game and the boy is so adept with a horse, as you claim, how did he fall?"  
  
"He was frightened-"  
  
"Frightened because you charged at him with all your force?"  
  
"No! Because he did not anticipate it."  
  
"What is there not to anticipate in a friendly game Lord Rivers?"  
  
"I'm sorry Lord Hastings." Elizabeth started. "It sounds awfully like you are blaming my brother, but why would he hurt my son?"  
  
"I am blaming no one. Simply asking that which Ned will want to know." Said Ned twitched, receiving the attention of every person in the room, not least because his over kick saw the prince be jolted, murmurs came from the boy but soon died.  
  
"I do not know why he was frightened." Anthony said eventually. "Whatever his horse spooked."  
  
"He was thrown from the saddle?" Hastings questioned, continuing as Anthony nodded. "He was taught to stay still was he not?"  
  
"Yes, but you will well know my lord that boys do not remember such training when in trouble. Do you remember all you were taught?"  
  
"I suppose not." The Lord chamberlain muttered reluctantly.   
  
"The horse stepped on him." Anthony said finally, to Elizabeth.  
  
"Jesus." Hastings muttered, waiting a moment before he went to the door, opening it ajar, he whispered something to a servant before closing it again quickly   



	2. Chapter 2

The boy couldn't walk. Hobbes had told them so this morning.

William Hastings now stood before the door of St Peters chapel. Now listened as pewter, bronze and gold clattered. He listened as wood cracked. As shouts and screams came from within. He had tried all he could to stop this. Tried to bring reason to his master and yet, this was happening.

"Fuck!" Hastings looked into the chapel as the King shouted, his foot slamming down on one of the pews with little effort, splintering the wood. "Why?!"

"Your grace-" the frightened priest muttered. Hastings cursed under his breath, entering the chapel then. He had not seen the priest enter. How had he not?

"Ned-" Hastings spoke firmly.

"No! You will not tell me to calm down. You will not!"

"Ned I just advise-"

"I don't want your advice! I want answers. Why would he do this-"

"The good father had nothing to do with-"

"Not that man." Edward spoke. His voice calmer, though his eyes still murderous. "Why would He Will?"

Hastings stopped, his body feeling cold as a winters day as his friend looked to him then, with pleading in his eyes. "He has ever sided with us and now? George..."

"Do not." Hastings whispered, resting a hand on the Kings bicep, looking to the priest he offered a dismissive wave. "Edward, come, sit-"

"I do not want to sit." His voice was almost silent. Hastings looked away as the man half collapsed onto one of the remaining pews. "He can't walk Will... Jesus... He can't... He's a child. A child, and is punished so? Mayhap it is I who is being punished?"

"Don't say that-"

"Why? It is true." He muttered.

Hastings turned, hearing foot steps by the door, saw the woman he wished not to see at any other time.

"Your grace." He nodded, taking a step aside as Elizabeth cleared the room between herself and her husband.

"Ned." She soothed, sitting beside him. She did not regard the chaos of this small chapel. "He is asleep. Hobbes had to once again make him sleep. He had a seizure as soon as his eyes open-" she stopped, hearing the sob her husband tried to hide.

"Edward." Hastings whispered. He had moved, moved toward his master, ready to pull the man into his arms when Elizabeth acted.

"What does it mean?" Will looked away as he watched his masters indignity, watched as Edward wiped his eyes then nose on his velvet sleeve. "A seizure? What in Gods name does that mean? Elizabeth you should know... you know all when it comes to such matters and... help him?"

There was silence a moment. A silence which Hastings thought may well last a life time, that was until the wench spoke.

"Hobbes says what he thinks it means. He has called several physicians, Argentine and others... they agree Ned, it means that our son... that Edward is like to die."

Again the silence was all consuming. Will had dared to turn his back. Had dared to look away as he tried to take in the intolerable emptiness. That was why he jumped as the sound of clattering metal filled his ears, as his master screamed. "Fuck!" When he looked back, he saw the silver scattered, saw Edward leaving the chapel with a determination to rival the battlefield general. "William! Come here! Now!"

He did not linger long, only hesitating a moment before he followed. Followed he thought like a loyal bitch. He could not help but roll his eyes, then could not help but recoil as the king spun on him. "Do not dare roll your eyes at me, do not dare." He snapped.

"Ned I-"

"Shit." He snarled, his voice softening. "I am sorry Will. Jesus but I am sorry. I simply must know. What exactly happened. I must find out what happened, because if there is a single man to blame? If there is anyone to blame for this, my God I will have their head for this."

"You.." Hastings bit his tongue, clasping his hands behind his back.

Anthony....

That was all he could think, Anthony. And if he was to speak up? If he was to say it? Then would he be believed?

Would he just start open war?

***

The prince would die, and that was almost certain. Hobbes hands shook, tremored like a man with the palsy as he ground herbs to paste. Ground them he was sure beyond paste. Edward was coming, word had been sent ahead. Elizabeth, that most gracious queen, had tried to buy time. Had tried all to cool her husbands temper, but to no avail. No matter what she attempted to entice his attention away from reality, it did not work. Hobbes had then been left to plan his words, for he had not wished to give this news to the king. This was news he would like to deliver less than the news that the king himself was dying - less even than the news that his father had passed at Wakefield, and his brother been so brutally murdered.

He had remembered the rage then. How the castle at Ludlow had been overturned from the youths temper. Now he had grown from a hot tempered youth to a man capable of great destruction.A man almost incapable of mercy.

Was he beyond shooting the messenger?

That was a question Hobbes would need to wait to have answered.

He turned quickly, hearing the sheets rustle as the young prince twitched his hand. Yet it was not to the prince his attention was offered. Rather, he looked to Anthony Woodville sat beside the boy on the bed. "He will kill me. When he finds out." Anthony whispered. "If Lord Hastings has not already told him."

"And if he has?" Hobbes offered, gently. "You are not dead already. It is no use to theorise on what you do not already know."

Anthony scoffed. "Forgive me, doctor, but you do not understand.You did not injure the boy. It was not your mistakes which saw the prince of wales unable to move. It was not your negligence which has angered England's king. So forgive me if I am so rude as to say that you are just a doctor, you would not understand."

Hobbes' hand slammed down. He gulped hard to steady his breath. "No my lord, but I understand enough to say that negligence it was not but rather it was quite frankly the sheerest stupi-" the doors slammed open before he could finish. "Your gr-"

"Edward." The king ignored all but the boy in the bed. "My sweet boy." Hobbes had wanted to raise objection, to say something as his master sped across the room, lifting the child into his arms. "What happened out there?" That was the whisper that came from the king's lips. The whisper Anthony knew to be aimed at him. A whisper he did not answer. A whisper which soon became a shout. "I said what happened?!"

"He... he... fell."

"From his horse. I am not a fool. I know as much. I mean what exactly happened! I have fallen from a horse so many times-"

"The boy is small-"

"Do not test me. If you wish to push my patience I'll tell you that it will hurt when it snaps. Now what happened?"

"He wanted to joust and I let him."

"Testing Anthony." Ned sighed. "You let him? As in the boy was evenly matched? Or you encouraged? Facilitated it? Do not think I have no already found out."

"I... I encouraged it."

"Against whom did he joust?" There was silence in response. "Patience. Anthony. Testing."

"Me." There was a silence following that which almost made Hobbes choke it was so thick.

"You didn't think you could tell me? When it happened? You thought instead and sought to hide it from me? Did you think that silence would help you? That I may not find out?"

"No-"

"Do not interrupt me." Edward hissed. Hobbes' hand slipped as he tried to spoon the paste from the bowl. Implements fell all over the floor in a disruptive clatter. He was glad to see his masters eyes flicker, though he did not give the doctor his full attention. Yet his tone was dangerous as he next spoke. "Pick those up. Now."

"Of course your-"

"Shut up. The mans attention was again returned to Anthony. "Did you think so little as to believe it would save you from the block?"

"No-"

"Good. Because it will not. Indeed I may have you hung drawn and quartered-"

"Ned please-"

"Do not call me Ned. In fact, do not address me at all. Now leave. Get out. Go. Before I have the mind to have you killed instantly."

"Edward-"

"Go. Now."

 


End file.
